


Beneath the Stars

by brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Spoilers for There and Back Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/pseuds/brynnmclean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Five Armies and the Slaying of Smaug, King Thranduil held a feast in honor—grudging honor, but honor nonetheless—for the King Under the Mountain.  Tauriel had mixed feelings about this feast because it meant that Kili would be in attendance.  There was a part of Tauriel that wondered if the connection they had formed was indeed some dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [necrotype](https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrotype/gifts).



> The spoiler I tagged in the fic is an off-screen canonical character death. 
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> Sorry folks, Thorin is still dead. But Kili and Fili are not! I am pretty much operating under the rule of "canon? what canon? /throws canon out the window" here.
> 
> Over on tumblr, I received the one word prompts "mirror" and "stars" for this pairing, so this is what I ended up with. If I've forgotten any tags, please let me know. :)

Tauriel had always had something of an aversion to mirrors. Her fiery red hair and freckles were a great source of grief for her when she was an elfling—and the other children knew it, jumped upon that weakness until she grew strong enough and fast enough to outpace them in nearly any task they were taught.

Legolas never was among her childhood tormentors—even then he was her light-footed shadow, the one who raced with her, sparred with her, wrestled with her until they both were the best of their generation in the Guard. Her brother, the sun-haired twin of her heart, her prince. He carried different insecurities within him, not ones of appearance, but questions of his worth as the son of the King of Mirkwood. 

Tauriel remembered one night on duty when they were still green where he confessed that he wished he was someone else, someone who perhaps did not have so great a name because with that name came the expectation of greatness, of deeds worthy of songs. He always feared being a disappointment to Thranduil. She remembered clapping a hand to his shoulder, pushing him playfully, saying they both had much to prove the world and they would help each other exceed expectations, would they not? That is what they had promised each other when they were small. He would be a great warrior prince and she would be at his right-hand as his fiery captain.

Female captains were rare among their people, though ellyn and ellith were taught the same tasks as they grew. Tauriel was not sure why she was so different than other ellith, why she preferred knife work to needle work, but she was what Ilúvatar made her to be. She hardened herself to the sneers and complaints of others, ignored the wounded pride of those she had beaten to the position of guardsman all the way up to her appointment as Captain. The dirt-speckled ginger she-elf laughed in the face of those who threw insults at her and subdued those who threw fists instead of words.

Still, she never quite overcame her dislike of mirrors. And the few times she traded her armor for dresses, she looked at her face with some measure of despair.

After the Battle of Five Armies and the Slaying of Smaug, King Thranduil held a feast in honor—grudging honor, but honor nonetheless—for the King Under the Mountain, Fili son of Vili, the nephew of the late Thorin Oakenshield. Tauriel had her own mixed feelings about this feast because it meant that the king's brother Kili would be in attendance.

She had not seen Kili since the Battle, but she had heard of the wounds he and his brother incurred, how they both were lucky to have survived, lucky to have been found by elvish healers before it was too late. Thorin Oakenshield was not so lucky—though Tauriel was sure the gold-mad king would have stubbornly refused elvish medicine if the offer had presented itself. Someone can only be called back from darkness if they wish to follow the voice that reaches for them, after all.

Tauriel had been wounded as well and still carried the bite of the warg who had nearly taken her head from her shoulders. She had lain there with its corpse crushing her chest for more time than she cared to remember. Stubborn, she had been called since she was small, and she still was. She clung to consciousness, to life on this side of the Sea through sheer force of will. It had been enough until the healers came for her too.

There had been simply too much happening in the aftermath of the Battle for Tauriel and Kili to see each other, let alone speak. There was a part of Tauriel that wondered if the connection they had formed—whatever sort of connection it was, she was still unsure—was indeed some dream. Perhaps the dwarf had woken up from it and she would meet him at the feast and find him... distant.

 _She is far, far away from me,_ he had said in his delirium in Laketown. She worried now that he had put her there again. Unreachable.

So some of her nerves prior to the feast could be attributed to those thoughts crowding her mind. She looked at all of the dresses in her quarters without satisfaction until finally she threw on an emerald dress and the relatively simple jewelry she regularly wore. Legolas found her fretting over the curls in her hair and muttering curses into the tiny mirror she had forced herself to keep.

Legolas chuckled at her visible plight before gesturing for her to sit on her bed so that he could braid her hair. (She, of course, was expected to return the favor.)

"I will never understand your preoccupation with this dwarf," Legolas declared, his thin fingers deftly weaving through her hair. He did not sound disdainful, merely amused.

"He was sweet," Tauriel said, defensive. She folded her hands into fists on her knees so she wouldn't indulge in her awful nervous habit of biting her nails.

"I suppose if you had to pick one of them, we should be grateful you picked the most handsome of them," Legolas teased, tugging lightly on the braid he was making. "You could have someone with one of those awful beards."

She growled at him wordlessly, not wanting to confess that she had sense memories of the curious rough texture of Kili's stubble upon her palms from when she had dared to touch his cheeks as he lay ill before her. She could only endure so much teasing from Legolas.

She had been briefly worried after her discussion with the King that Legolas's feelings for her had indeed changed from brotherly to romantic, but Legolas's interactions with her had never altered to put weight to Thranduil's words. And when she had brought up the subject with him, he had laughed, a clear, mirthful sound.

"You are my twin," he had said, eyes and smile bright as sunlight on water. "My father has never understood that you are my sister, though not by blood. To speak truly," he said then, turning his gaze away from hers, a little frown on his fair face. "I have enough foresight to know that I am made for another, though their face is not yet known to me."

She hoped that his future beloved had a beard, a huge _mane_ of a beard. It would serve him right after all the grief he had given her over her interest in a dwarf.

She was not even sure if anything would come of this whole dressing to impress business anyway. Not that she was trying to dress up for Kili. She just wanted to look her best for the feast. And if he happened to see her and find her beautiful, well. Well.

She could feel Legolas's obnoxious grin behind her, that one that always without fail made her want to shove him face-first into the river.

"Stop that," she said, and knew he was widening his eyes with false innocence. "You know what I mean, Legolas."

"Ai, you are as prickly as a hedgehog tonight, Tauriel," he said, still full of mirth. "It is not like you to be so nervous."

"I am _not_ nervous," she said, though the heat in the words did not help her.

"Indeed," Legolas chuckled, then held out his hand for the flowers she wished to be woven in with her braids tonight. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments as Legolas finished with her hair. 

"Done," he said, pushing against her shoulder gently. "Now it is my turn."

"Would you like flowers in your hair as well?”

That grin was back. “But I am not trying to impress anyone tonight, dearest.”

She tugged on his hair extra hard for that. He was just asking for it. After this feast, prince or no prince, she was definitely dyeing his hair green.

-

The feast was... well, it wasn't quite a disaster. No blades were drawn and all insults were swallowed. However, the main hall seemed to have a large invisible line drawn into the stone floor—and elf and dwarf alike seemed loath to cross it.

Uncomfortable. That was a fine word for it. The kings greeted each other with cold civility—and Tauriel marked the set of Fili's shoulders, the proud, hard lines of his frame. Aulë’s children had been carved from stone and that strength could be still be seen in their kings, she thought. Kili stood at Fili's right hand and she could not read any joy or laughter in his face.

She remembered him grinning at her as he flipped the little black talisman his mother had given him. _She says I'm reckless,_ he'd said to her and she had wanted to laugh. He looked the type—reckless and handsome, brave and foolhardy. Young. There was steel in the smile that crossed his face now. He carried the fresh loss of battle with him still, she could sense that. The bright light within him carried a little more grief than joy now.

Her heart ached at the sight of him. All breath felt stolen from her body. She could feel Legolas's gaze turn to her from where he stood beside his father, but she did not look at him. Legolas had offered to have her stand with him and Thranduil when they met King Fili and his brother, but she had declined. The clumsy excuse she had made had been something about not wanting to seem favored over the other captains of the Guard—also not wanting to make it seem as if the lord of Mirkwood needed a guard against their guests—but the reality was that she hadn't wanted to be so close to Kili. Not without being able to smile or speak plainly with him. She wanted to be far from the crowd, wanted some quiet place under a canopy of stars where she could sit with him and bring a smile to his face, a smile that was just for her.

Such foolish thoughts. She wasn't even sure if he would like to see her again. She only knew that she could not bear to be on the receiving end of a cold stare from him. And the dwarven lords in the center of the Hall turned cold eyes upon the King of Mirkwood, though there was genuine gratitude in their voices when they expressed their thanks to the healers who had saved their lives on the battlefield. That was undoubtedly one of the main reasons they had agreed to come to this feast—to express that sentiment.

The lords exchanged words that flowed over her like water, pleasantries and affirmations of good will. Valar only knew how much real truth was in the words from both sides. She paid little attention, she had never been one for politics. She did not have the patience for it.

She barely had the patience for this.

After the greetings came the food and the wine and the music and the dancing, though few dwarves were brave enough or willing to join the dancing or approach the elves as teachers. She was fond of dancing, but she hid behind her wine glass and watched the dwarven company.

There were several with the king and his brother, dwarves whose names she did not know, but she thought perhaps she had seen them during the battle in split second glimpses before the warg's teeth sunk into her flesh. A few curious elves came to them and tried to speak to them, but Tauriel turned away before seeing if such advances were acceptable.

She nearly ran straight into Legolas, steadying herself quickly before she spilled wine all over the both of them. Legolas laughed and deftly stole her glass from her, taking a sip. "Still hiding, are we, Tauriel?" he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

She arched an eyebrow at him and took her wine back from him, draining it. "Not at all, mellon nin."

"Excellent!" He took her cup and set it down on a nearby table then clasped her hand in his. "Then you won't mind dancing with me."

"What if I don't wish to dance?" she said, dry, but let him pull her out onto the floor.

"Gwanunig nin," he said with a warm smile, the smile he reserved for her and it was almost always paired with that word, _twin._ He knew that worked on her, just as she knew it always worked on him. "Please?"

" _Fine._ " She tried to sound long-suffering, but she was suddenly grateful for the distraction. It was an opportunity to clear her mind of her worries.

She and Legolas danced together the way they fought, fluidly and in sync, seamlessly shifting from follower to leader, playing to their strengths. They couldn't dance with anyone else in this way, no one else could predict their movements as effortlessly. Tauriel knew how to read Legolas's form better than any book. She lost herself in the push and pull of her twin, the sweet rhythm of the music, and she set aside her awareness of the crowd for a little while.

That equilibrium, however, was shattered as soon as the music ended and the hall burst into applause. Her gaze fell upon the dwarven company after Legolas bowed and kissed her hand, thanking her for the dance before he was pulled away by other dance partners. 

She caught the eyes of King Fili, who seemed to be studying her speculatively. She pulled a smile to her face and saw one corner of his mouth lift up before he tilted his head in a clear gesture to draw her attention to the left of him. When she looked, she saw Kili hiding his face in a mug of ale, his cheeks pink beneath his dark stubble.

Hope sparked in her chest, but she was drawn away by an elleth who wished to dance with her as the next song began.

Song after song, new dance partner after dance partner came. Tauriel saw some elves pull a few brave dwarves onto the floor and she thought perhaps Kili would work up the courage to approach her, but she did not see him and she soon had to beg off from dancing in favor of some food. She deliberately crossed the hall to the table set up on the dwarven side and grabbed a plate, trying her best to be casual in searching the crowd for Kili.

"He went to go get some air, my lady," a voice said at her side, sounding amused and all too knowing. She turned and saw Fili, his dimples betraying the smile he was trying to hide from her.

"How did you know I wanted to see your brother?" she asked before she could stop herself, and he chuckled, shaking his head at her. 

"You and Kili are more transparent than you think, Lady Tauriel." 

She was a little infuriated that she could feel herself blush all the way to the tips of her ears. But she said nothing, piling more food onto her plate.

Fili pointed to one of the exits out of the main hall. "You'll find him that way. Perhaps you can do me the favor of making sure he doesn't get lost?"

"I will gladly do that, my lord," she mumbled and then made a rather hasty exit.

-

It did not take her long to find Kili. There was a path that wound through the caves out to where the stars could be seen. It was a well-known path for her, of course, and she had hoped Kili would find it. She had hoped he would search for starlight and find her favorite balcony—it seemed that Elbereth was with her tonight.

He was standing at the railing with his head upturned toward the heavens, his mug of ale resting on the floor beside him. He did not hear her approach, so she spoke softly in the hopes of not startling him.

"Eärendil shines bright tonight."

He turned and gave her that flash of a grin she'd always found so endearing. Her heart leapt at the sight, joy and relief lighting up within her—he was pleased to see her! She was grateful that he then looked back up at the fierce star in question because she was sure the look on her face was foolish. 

"He does indeed," he said, hushed.

She set her plate of food down by the hall’s entrance then crossed over to where he stood and rested her hands atop the railing, her left hand close enough to where his rested that she felt warmth emanating from him. He had reached for her in Laketown, his short fingers brushing against hers—she wondered now what he would do if she tried to lace her fingers with his own. 

She resisted the impulse. She did not truly know how he felt about her, not anymore, not yet. She would wait.

"It is good to see you," Kili said, turning back to her, his grin fading into a smile, something softer. 

She felt her cheeks heat up and prayed that he couldn't see her blush in the lower light. There were many things she wished to say, so many words jumbling in her mouth— _I had hoped you would seek me out, I was looking for you, I wanted to dance with you, do you still care for me_ —but she took a measured breath and said, "It is good to see you too." Then, after a moment of her frantically searching for something to say, she told him, "This is my favorite place to watch the stars. You can see Menelvagor perfectly tonight."

A frown passed over Kili's face and he squinted up at the sky. "Menelvagor," he repeated slowly, drawing out the name, clearly unfamiliar with it. Of course, it was Sindarin, he wouldn't be familiar with her language, would he? She felt embarrassed suddenly and tripped over herself to explain.

"The Swordsman of the Sky... over there, see?" She leaned toward him and pointed at the constellation. "You can see his belt."

Kili stood up on his tip toes, swaying a little. Then his face brightened. “Ah, there he is,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble very close to her.

Tauriel thought about their bodies meeting, about bridging the small distance between them and pressing his side against her own. There was such a _pull_ from him, she felt drawn to him every time she saw him—but she stepped back in a defensive gesture she recognized but berated herself for.

Kili dropped back down on his heels, and she studied the railing to keep herself from gazing at him. Her hands were trembling with her desire to touch him, so she ran them over the curves of cool stone.

“I’m learning a little of your tongue,” Kili told her, startling her. “Fili and I both are.”

Of course. “A diplomatic decision,” she said very carefully, and felt his eyes on her. 

She stole a small glance out of the corner of her eye and saw his face half lit by the moon and the stars, half lit by the warm fires within the hall.

“Tauriel,” he said her name the way he always had, like he was rolling the syllables in his mouth, savoring them. “For my brother’s part, it is politics, but for my part…” She heard him inhale, his breath hitching a little. _He’s nervous too,_ she realized, and her hand shifted of its own accord, resting there on the railing in an invitation she wanted him to take, but wondered if he would. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

She gasped quietly when his hand rested over her own, his fingers fitting in the spaces between hers. She didn’t look, she didn’t look, not even when he lifted her hand and held it between his palms.

“Are you cold? You’re shivering,” he said. 

She shook her head in answer, feeling off-balance, sure that speaking would knock her clean over, all her feelings rushing out of her and into the air.

He did not let go of her hand. “I saw you dancing earlier. You were magnificent to watch.”

“I had hoped,” she began, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she stopped them and swallowed. She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him again, summoning her courage. “I had hoped to have you join me.”

His eyes widened, his cheekbones flushing pink as he smiled sheepishly. “I am not a skilled dancer, my lady. And I know none of the steps to your Elvish dances. I would greatly fear for your toes.”

Tauriel laughed aloud and felt better for it, more centered. “I believe you underestimate my skill as a lead, Kili!”

Kili turned redder, but he was still smiling. “I do no such thing, Tauriel. But you shall have to be a patient teacher, if you wish to dance with me…”

Tauriel hummed a few bars to a simple dance tune, and Kili allowed her to maneuver him into position. Her nerves settled now that she had a task to channel them into—she always communicated better with her body than with her tongue.

Kili was not, as he claimed, an unskilled dancer. He stumbled a few times in the beginning, but after a few moments, he adapted and took direction quite well.

She made sure to tell him so, but he laughed. "I will forget it all come morning. That is my trouble, I can never remember the steps for very long! Plus," he added, eyes shining with mirth. "I am sure this is the simplest dance you know."

"That is true," she readily admitted, but then grinned as an idea struck her. 

She pulled him a little closer, lifting him up off his feet and then setting him down atop her boots. His hands tightened their grip on her and he made a startled sound.

“I don’t want to crush your feet,” he protested, looking down at their shoes, but she moved easily beneath his weight, singing a more complicated dance and twirling the pair of them through it. 

Slowly, Kili relaxed his grip and turned his gaze from their feet to her face. She tried not to falter at the affection she saw in his eyes. It was a difficult balancing act—feeling so much happiness and nervousness all at once. She was dancing with Kili, holding him in her arms while they moved across the balcony, and he was looking at her the way he looked at the stars, like she was beautiful and wonderful.

When he reached up and skimmed his fingers along her cheek, she did some stumbling of her own and stopped dancing altogether.

“Sorry,” he said, quiet, but he didn’t pull back his hand and didn’t step away. Instead, he ran his thumb along her cheekbone and then along her ear. He was still pressed all along her front, so she knew he felt the shiver that ran through her. 

He was close enough to kiss. They were sharing the same breath. She was sure he could feel her heart racing against the cage of her ribs.

“You are so very beautiful,” he told her, his fingers coming back to her face and touching her freckles. “You have stars along your skin.”

“Everyone except Legolas called them dirt speckles when I was an elfling,” she said, her voice trembling as much as her body.

“They didn’t see the constellations,” Kili said with a grin that she had to kiss. She simply had to.

The world narrowed down to this moment, this feeling of her mouth upon his, her hands cupping his face. His lips parted for her and she drank in the moan he made like the sweetest of wine. 

His hands ran over then in the braids of her hair and she wanted to fall into him, wanted him to unravel her control in the best way. The words she had held back tumbled from her, Sindarin pressed into each kiss, all her longing and fear.

She would have been embarrassed had he not answered her in his own tongue, rumbling words that were given to her with such care, brushed along her mouth, her freckles, her throat. She did not know his language, but she understood him all the same.

-

Eventually, they had to return to the feast. 

Kili wove the flowers back into her hair that he had dislodged, but Legolas laughed when he pulled Tauriel aside later. It turned out Tauriel now wore dwarven and elven braids in her fiery hair.

She found that information kept her smiling for the rest of the night.

-

The next morning, as the dwarven company left the Halls of Mirkwood, Kili approached Tauriel and said his farewells. She pulled him into her arms, uncaring of the curious eyes of others as they embraced.

His parting words were whispered against her collarbone, a soft promise that pierced her heart. 

She told no one of these words, not even Legolas. She whispered them to herself and to the stars in the many nights before she saw Kili again.

“Gerich veleth nin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Elvish notes:
> 
> \- ellyn - plural form of "ellon", male elves  
> \- ellith - plural form of "elleth", female elves  
> \- mellon nin - my friend  
> \- gwanunig nin - my twin  
> \- Menelvagor - Sindarin for the constellation Orion (here, have a [fancy star chart](http://valarguild.org/varda/Tolkien/encyc/art/gallery/Elatan/Elatan%27sStarmap.jpg)!)  
> \- gerich veleth nin - you have my love
> 
> Hush, I know I'm a sap. <3


End file.
